


face hugs are totally a thing

by starforged



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Pining, Post-Scarlet, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/pseuds/starforged
Summary: But he was struck by the urge to trace the shape of her murderous scowl in a way that was - uncomfortable. There was thinking about kissing your friend silly because she was obviously in desperate need of being kissed silly, and there was wanting to kiss your friend because you needed it.





	face hugs are totally a thing

“A princess, huh?” 

Thorne found Cinder in the cargo hold, lying on her back on the metal floor. She didn't bother to look in his direction, but she also didn't bother to hide her sigh. He grinned. She was charmed by him; he knew it. 

He sprawled out on the floor next to her, his ship - _Iko_ \- thrumming against his back. Funny how they always ended up on the floor again. Especially uncomfortable floors. 

“Here I am, thinking I’ve solved the mystery, and you were it all along.” His hand moved as he talked, a flippant gesture. 

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking her in as much as he could from this angle. Fairy tales from his childhood told him that princesses were soft and delicate. Cinder wasn't any of these things. She was constantly annoyed and always telling him off and scowled a lot. She had more in common with real life royalty than a storybook character.

“What?” There it was, that grumble he was so fond of.

“You've got a noble nose.”

She turned her head in his direction, eyes narrowed and mouth tugged into something that could only be described as more than a scowl. The corners of her lips were drawn down so far, they practically reached her chin. He could feel the heat of her anger, the waves of murderous intent beating against him.

Thorne had thought about kissing Cinder before. Of course he had. He was a proclaimed ladies’ man, and she was attractive. And they had been spending a lot of harrowing time together.

But he was struck by the urge to trace the shape of her murderous scowl in a way that was - uncomfortable. There was thinking about kissing your friend silly because she was obviously in desperate need of being kissed silly, and there was wanting to kiss your friend because _you_ needed it.

“I have no idea what that even means,” Cinder muttered, turning away from him.

Shit.

It wasn't like he had never had feelings before. He had plenty of feelings for women. He'd felt something close to love before. Intense adoration. That was a good word for it. This was probably just that, a fleeting sunburst because of the trauma they'd just been through.

_Adoration_ had never made him risk his life before, had never made him decide he was going to throw it away for _anyone else._

“It’s strong, well defined.”

“Are you telling me I have a big nose, Cadet?”

_“Captain.”_ He breathed slowly through his own nose, trying to temper the race of his heart. “And no.”

It didn’t make much sense. They didn’t each other _that_ well, but maybe they knew each other just enough. Maybe it was that trauma thing again. Yeah, sure. Trauma addled his brain. Prison addled his brain, honestly. It was inhumane to keep someone like him so far away from other people, with nobody to talk to or annoy or charm. 

“Are you guys having a moment?” Iko’s voice came through, reverberating around them.

Cinder closed her eyes, as if trying to block out everything around her. 

He should - go? Leave. Let her be alone to handle everything that just happened to her, and let him be alone so he can not think about the tics of her face or the way she smells (a little like grease and soap). 

No. 

He’d think about it even if he was alone.

Alone leaves a lot to the imagination, and while he might not _do_ anything because his ship now had sentience - he didn’t trust himself to not think things he shouldn’t be thinking about. 

“If by moment, you mean I’m trying to not throttle Thorne…”

“You always know just the right things to say,” he crooned, but the words get stuck in his throat a bit. Thinking too much, can’t think. No, if he stopped thinking, then all he’d have left is action, and then he’d do something stupid.

Like get a metal hand giving him a concussion. His head still hurt from when he brought her back from her little episode back at the bar. 

He moved his head, cheek resting on the floor, so that he could look at her profile. Her eyes flicked in his direction, open again. There was a warmth in there that he was surprised to see. It was nice, like the smallest of fires that would only _just_ keep you alive in the cold. 

Her cheek rested against the floor. She stared back at him. 

“We’re not having a moment,” she told him.

“You’re staring into each other’s eyes.” The ship sighed. It rumbled. “First Scarlet and Wolf are being weird, now I have to deal with _you?”_

“We’re not doing anything,” Cinder protested.

His fingers twitched. 

There was a lot he could do. Trace her lips. Wipe the dirt smudge from her cheek. Push back her unwashed hair. Hold her metal hand. Did it feel the same way flesh did? Would she want anyone to touch it? It seemed to be a sensitive point, but he didn’t care that it was there. It was part of her. It was handy. 

The metal hand is on the other side of her body, further away from him. To grab it would require moving over her. 

“We’re having a bit of a moment,” Thorne pressed. “I complimented your regal nose.”

“I’m still not sure if that even counts as a compliment. I think you’re making fun of me.”

“That sounds unlike me.”

She gave him that perfect glare again, a huff on her lips. 

Love. It was love. It was that stupidity that overrode his need for self-preservation. It was the way his stomach tossed itself in knots every time she made it known that he was irritating. It was the tension in his muscles as he actively forced himself to keep this small bit of space, the few inches that spread between them. 

“There’s nothing all that regal about me,” Cinder said. 

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Use the right fork, walk with a straight spine.” He poked at her side, close to her back. It was an automatic motion, born of not thinking. “Is there metal in there, too?”

She pushed his hand away. “What do you know about being _regal_.”

“My mom read me a lot of stories as a kid.”

“Fairy tales.” 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t like them when you were - You know, adopted. You must have looked them up.”

She was quiet for a long time, but she didn’t look away from him and that was a victory. She also hadn’t pushed his hand that far away, and the tips of his fingers brushed against the fabric of her shirt. Another victory. 

“Peony,” she finally spoke up. “My sister.”

“The one with the chip.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she nodded. “She loved them.”

“And me!” Iko chimed in. 

Thank the stars for Iko, keeping him in check because he was a moron. 

“Iko, you know Cinder best,” Thorne said.

“I didn’t know she was a princess.” How a robot could sound hurt, it was beyond him. 

“But now that you do?”

“Well, that definitely means she could marry Kai.”

“Ah, my rival.”

Cinder rolled her eyes. “I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m not. You’re not rivals. There’s nothing going on. I don’t even know what being a princess means.”

“You’re right. The princess _always_ falls for the dashing rogue.” He winked at her. 

“You’re not dashing, Thorne.”

“But I _am_ rogueish?” he pushed. 

“No.”

His grin eased into a smile, and he scooted closer to her. Friendship. Friends got close. It was fine. He ignored that minute panic that flashed in her gaze and the shaky way she breathed out through her mouth as he pressed his forehead to hers. Don’t look into it. Don’t see beyond his stupidity to see his heart. 

Their noses brushed. Her breath was warm against his face. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a face hug.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“I’m going to be here for you, Cinder. Selene. Whoever you are or want to be. We’re going to figure this out together.”

“Hm.” Her face was blurry. He couldn’t tell what her expression was, what it could have been, if she was moved by his words or annoyed by them or if she knew what they meant underneath his brave exterior. 

Her forehead pressed back against his, and that regal nose of hers bent the tip of his down almost painfully. She was _not_ very good at this face hugging thing he just made up. 

“Sooooooooooooooo,” Iko drawled out. “A moment, then?”


End file.
